Connect
by cresselia8themoon
Summary: Based on Island of the Lost Dakotas. We all form bonds with each other. And when the bond is lost, we do everything in our power to reclaim it.
1. Connect

_This isn't related to MML Connect. It's named for the opening theme of Puella Magi Madoka Magica. All you need to know is The Island of Lost Dakotas messed me up so much. But I've been posting on that a lot, so you guys probably know that already._

* * *

 _I will never forget the promise we made_

"We'll prove that we can be trusted to handle a mission to save the world, correct?" Cavendish asked. "In the words of Professor Time, 'persevere when the circumstances tell you that you can't'."

"You ripped that from his memoir, didn't you?" Dakota replied.

Cavendish quickly shoved the book under his pillow. "It was the only chapter I hadn't memorized."

Dakota shook his head. "You're really something else. Fine. We'll work our way up the ladder. Together. That means one of us doesn't advance without the other, more than one-"

Cavendish sighed. "I didn't take you to be able to memorize the dictionary. Very well. Whether pistachio protecting or saving the world, we shall succeed together."

 _Though time goes on it will never fade_

The car crash had been the 51st death. Or was it the 56th? Though he could only give a rough estimate of how many times he'd looped time to undo death, or have trouble remembering the circumstances which led to it, there was one thing that he could recall with perfect clarity.

The promise to succeed together. To never let failure define them. Triumph when the odds were against them.

 _Don't lose sight I must move on_

Get the pills away. Away where they could never hurt Cavendish.

All this time. All this time and not a single death had been suicide.

Succeed together meant nothing to him. How could he have been so damn selfish?

Maybe it wasn't his fault though. Dakota was the one who was caught up in outside forces that he never recognized the internal ones.

Loop time. Loop time and talk to him. Beg him. Whatever it takes.

 _Until I reach the faraway dawn_

When would it stop? How would he stop it?

The deaths were far too common to be circumstance alone. There was a reason they were occurring.

He would find out why. And stop it.

 _How can I see through the visions_

A ship. A storm. A lightning strike.

A gun. A mask. An alley.

Cavendish would die and die and die. Even if he was still alive, he died in Dakota's dreams that sometimes he'd question the reality of it all. Which was the figment and which was real became blurred.

 _Through the loop to another revision_

It never ended. The clock ticked on, sweeping Dakota to a new timeline and erasing the old one. The hands beat methodically.

Just a matter of time before the new timeline was erased as well.

 _No matter how long it takes_

Losing track and still counting. Wouldn't it be funny if the Island reached maximum capacity before the loops stopped? The thought of all his past selves all crowded together, arguing over elbow room and food almost made him laugh.

 _I will find a way for your sake_

Where there's a will, there's a way. There had to be.

The sacrifice was worth it.

Because it was Cavendish.

 _It hurts to be alone_

A past self needed some guidance on where to go, since he was still adjusting to Earth after being on the moon for a few missions. "Big storm today," the past self remarked. "If we stay out any longer we might see cats and dogs."

"That's the boat," Dakota said, pointing to the one that a man in a pink raincoat was standing next to. "It'll take you as far as a mysterious fogbank, and after that you'll be on your own until you reach the Island. And if the captain starts spouting some junk about being judgmental just ignore him. He lectures everyone."

The past self nodded, and Dakota hiked up the collar of his tracksuit against the pounding rain, heading back the way he came. "On my own, huh?" he said. Streams of water bounced off his glasses, and two tiny, thin ones streaked down his cheeks.

"Only for a little bit," Dakota replied. "You'll have me to keep you company once you reach the Island."

"But you aren't Cavendish," the past self said.

"No," Dakota agreed. "I'm not Cavendish."

 _Yet I must do this on my own_

Cavendish could never know. He was paranoid enough already. Knowing that he was fated to die a million times over only to suddenly be alive at the push of a button would scare him out of never leaving the apartment again.

He didn't want to consider what would happen if the Bureau discovered his secret. The past Dakotas would be considered an anomaly, and likely destroyed. Or used for experiments.

Milo Murphy was just a kid. He had enough on his plate already, with school, Murphy's Law, and all. He didn't need to be burdened with that secret.

This was his mission alone.

 _I must restrain my emotions_

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted so many things he couldn't have. Like a child really.

It was only natural to try and seek a place of comfort. But he couldn't. No, he couldn't, he wouldn't let anyone know-

Fight it. Push it down. Don't let it explode. Keep it in. Hold it together.

 _Though we're separated by oceans_

The Island was uncharted and uninhabited. It was the perfect place for the Dakotas to begin anew, to build themselves another life after another had been forcibly stripped away.

Their existence a secret. They would leave no mark. The industries they built were forever shrouded in anonymity. And when the time came, it would wither away.

 _I look forward to the day_

What if Cavendish found out? Yes, he definitely wouldn't take it well.

But a tiny part of him said maybe...

And so he entertained the idea.

 _Where both of us say_

It was a few simple words. Language was an odd thing. How could you take a simple sentence and twist it into something so complex?

Three words meant more than life and death.

And it would never come out.

 _A dance if we may_

The first act: the death scene. The second: the loop. The third: life goes on.

It was a dance. A slow, rhythmic dance that challenged death.

Someone was winding up the key to their stage.

As long as his dance partner was Cavendish, he didn't care how long it would take to escape them.

 _And I will be by your side_

They were up there. Watching.

His secret had been discovered. It had only been a matter of time before the civilization of Dakotas had been found and destroyed.

Balthazar Cavendish was to be executed. He should never have been alive after the first time he'd been killed. An anomaly. A panel of superiors waited above the room, safely presiding over his death. They had the final say.

The jig was up.

And so Dakota had asked to be put in the room with his partner. It was his doing, he argued. He should receive a proper sentence as well.

Cavendish protested of course. He had a life. He needed to live it.

But the Bureau decided to comply with his request. Of all times, now they choose to listen to him. Their benevolence almost seemed believable. And so he was locked in the room with Cavendish.

They would meet their final fate. Together.

 _Until the day I die._

The gas trickled in. Suffocating to death. So this was how they would go out.

"Succeed together," Cavendish said quietly. "Do you...still remember? The promise."

Dakota squeezed his hand. "I never forgot. No matter how many times you died. Didn't matter how many times I went back to save you."

The gas inched closer. It covered the outer edges of the room now.

Cavendish's hands covered Dakota's, his fingers gently massaging his knuckles. "Thank you." Tears built up in his eyes. "And...sorry."

Dakota rolled his eyes. "It's you. What am I gonna do?"

Cavendish coughed. It was getting harder to breathe with every second. "What...am I going to do with you?"

"Take me out," Dakota replied. He was holding out better, but not for long. "To lunch."

Cavendish slumped forward, his head resting on Dakota's shoulder. He gazed at Dakota's face in a weak attempt at a glare. Dakota pressed a kiss to his cheek, and Cavendish's eyes closed. His body twitched once, then stilled.

There would be no more do-overs after this.

But that was okay.

Their final success was dying together.

He had kept his promise after all this time.

He saw a green-sleeved hand. It stroked his hair, relieving all his pain, all his grief with each gentle touch. Sky-blue eyes blinked at him.

"Come, Dakota."

And he followed with no regrets.


	2. Epilogue

The bodies were found in an apartment the next day. Carbon monoxide poisoning, the media said. Well, as always don't believe them. Only a select group knew the truth. And one kid.

The 70s guy had written a note before he died. Addressed to Milo Murphy. Someone at the Bureau of Time Travel (Ok, I'll give them credit, BOTT is a much cooler acronym than OWCA) discovered it, but turned it over to the OWCA without a fuss in the current year.

Perry the Platypus volunteered to take the note. He heard the story. We both did. He was quiet-well, he's always quiet, that's nothing new, but much quieter than usual-, and he cried.

Baby.

We didn't even know the men who died. But Perry felt a connection.

Don't tell anyone I'm going to write anything sappy, but...

I did too.

If it had been me who died constantly in explosions and fires...

Perry the Platypus would've fought the world to see me live another day.

I may not know the full story, and I will likely never know. But I'm certain of this. To have someone who'd fight tooth and nail for you to live when you've convinced yourself that you're nothing, that the world puts you down and so you put yourself down to please them...

It's strange. But it's wonderful too.

The kid, Milo Murphy, took one look at the note. He was calm. I thought for sure he would start bawling right in front of us. He was no ordinary kid. He'd been through situations. I think Perry the Platypus could tell too.

He asked us about funerals.

The kid wanted a proper goodbye.

Perry the Platypus promised to send the request through.

I don't think I've ever seen anyone file paperwork that quickly before.

The funeral took place several days later. The kid asked us to come, and we accepted. We met Milo's family, and his two closest friends.

They were supportive, even when Milo accidentally knocked over the curtains, which caught fire. I think at one point a spare self-destruct fell out and Milo stepped on it.

Perry the Platypus is still giving me that look for having it in the first place.

But they're a forgiving bunch, so it worked out in the end.

They shared a tombstone. Since nobody could figure out their birth dates, nor could they put 'the future' as the time of death, it was simply engraved with their names and a quote.

 _Balthazar Cavendish and Vinnie Dakota._

Dakota's final request was engraved underneath.

 _Succeed together._

Everyone else slowly left, but Perry and I stay behind to finish something. Granted, it was corny, but...

We planted two saplings on their graves. Perry planted an oak on Dakota's side, and I planted an aspen on Cavendish's.

They dedicated their lives to saving the world. Didn't matter if the world encompassed the planet or one person.

Which reminds me, I caught a peek of Vanessa's diary-not-diary the other day.

 _We all form connections whether we know it or not. Your impact will be felt upon those bonds you form._

It was one of those quote by the day thingies. Cheesy inspirational stuff.

But it's the truth.

Cavendish and Dakota have left their impression. Now it's up to us to live it.


End file.
